The Danger of Fan Letters
by Vividian
Summary: A story about Draco recieving fan letters, and the problems ensuing from them. Rating will probably go up. SLASH! Do enjoy.
1. Ch1 In Which Draco Gets Some Fan Letters

Welcome to my newest story! I hope you enjoy!

NOTE: None of these characters are mine. Even the Ravenclaw is someone else's. Actually, all the extras other than the Ravenclaw are mine, but that's it. I only own the plotholes I looped together to make a "plot" of sorts besides that.

I don't know when I will be able to next update. I'm in college now, and as a result, have too much free time to waste with other things. We'll see how it goes, I guess. Please R&R!

The Danger of Fan Letters

Chapter One

Draco Malfoy was having an interesting day. It had started out like any normal day, but something told him it was going to be anything but that. Like most days, the first thing he did after finally dragging himself out of bed, was to go to the bathroom and shower. He liked to shower. He found it relaxing. So Draco showered, then he got dressed, woke Crabbe and Goyle, and went to breakfast. That's where the day started to get weird.

Draco sat down at breakfast, across from Pansy as usual, facing the Gryffindor table, as usual, waiting for the secret love of his life to enter, as usual, so he could stare at him through the meal, as usual. The food appeared, as usual, Harry arrived late, as usual, Draco didn't taste a single thing that passed his lips, as usual, and then the post arrived, as usual. However, there seemed to be a few more owls today than usual, and far more than usual landed in front of Draco.

"What the hell?" Draco asked as five owls offered him letters tied to their legs. He untied them all, and ignored the owls as they nipped pieces of bacon and French toast off his plate, in favor of the letters. He opened the first one, which was addressed to one, "Mr. Draco 'Hunksickle' Malfoy." "Pansy, what on earth is a 'hunksickle'?" he asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Someone addressed a letter to me like that."

"What?" Pansy said, and grabbed the letter away from him. "How peculiar." She started to open it when Draco snatched it back.

"That's MY mail, thank you very much."

"Then open it!"

Draco did just that. He pulled the strangely textured paper out of the weird envelope that was very white and very smooth, opened the paper, and began reading.

"'My dearest Draco Malfoy,'" he read aloud. "'My name is of no matter, but I just wanted to write and tell you that I think you are _the_ hottest person I have ever seen! You are the sexiest, most charming, most amicable, most adorable, most perfect person this world has ever had the luck to see. You are simply ravishing and I just had to tell you that I…I…I think I am in love with you Draco! You make me think dirty, pleasurable things whenever I see you, and I just HAD to write you to tell you how I really feel! I WANT YOUR BABIES, DRACO MALFOY! I WANT THEM! PLEASE MARRY ME! I WOULD DO ANYTHING! SELL MY SOUL TO LORD VOLDEMORT EVEN! PLEASE, DRACO! SAY YOU LOVE ME TOO!' And it's signed 'The President of Your Fan Club.' Now that is just creepy."

"It doesn't really say that!" Pansy insisted.

"It does!" Draco replied, handing her the note. "It is without a doubt the strangest thing I have ever read!"

"What's in the rest of the letters?"

Draco opened the next one and quickly scanned it.

"It's another one, but this time it's signed 'The Future Mrs Draco Malfoy.'"

"Are they all like that?"

Draco opened the other three.

"Yeah! One's from some 'Annabel' chick, one's from 'Jennifer Malfoy' and the final one is from 'Lisa 'Kiss Me Now' Wolfets.'"

"Can you say obsessive? Is the handwriting the same?"

"No, it's all different. And the styles of writing are all different too. I think five different people just sent me fan letters!" A strange look crossed Draco's face.

"What's a fan letter, boss?" Crabbe said, sitting down on one side of Draco.

"It's a letter written to someone to say that they think you're cool and that they're a fan of yours," Pansy replied.

"Oh," Goyle said. "So they aren't letters that turn into fans when you open them? Too bad. It's too hot in here. I could use a fan right about now."

"I think that that is the most I have ever heard you say in semi-proper English in my life, Goyle," Draco said. "Congratulations."

"Huh?" Goyle replied. "You lost me at the samurai-poster English part."

Draco sighed.

"So what are you going to do with them?" Pansy asked.

"What can I do?" Draco said. "I don't know who any of these people are, and I certainly don't want to encourage them by actually talking to them. I hate fangirls. They are so irritating."

"Thanks for your lovely sentiments," Pansy replied. "I happen to be a big fan of yours."

"Pansy, you're my friend. Friends have to be fans of each other."

"Do they?"

"I don't know. I haven't had too many other friends. But it makes sense doesn't it?" Draco said in a questioning tone of voice.

"I guess so."

Draco smiled. "Alright then, let's get to potions. Class is starting soon."

Potions class was an event. The Hogwarts grapevine was one of the best in the country, so it was no surprise that everyone in the school knew that Draco had gotten fan letters before Potions had started. In fact, most of them even knew the contents of all the letters, not just the one he had read aloud. The other Slytherins thought it was quite amusing that finally the "bad guys" were getting fan letters, while the Gryffindors thought it was disgusting.

"Bah!" Ron Weasley (aka "Weasel") said as he sat down in Potions. "I can't believe _Draco_ got fan mail, of all people."

"I bet he wrote it himself," Dean Thomas said, loud enough for the Slytherin to hear.

"Or paid someone to!" Seamus Finnigan added. "He'll probably have his Mommy send him flowers tomorrow and sign the card 'Loveable Linzy.'"

The Gryffindors all laughed. Draco snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Ah, well, if it isn't the lowly Gryffidorks. Tell me, Weasel, are the rumors true? Are your parents actually whoring you out to get the tuition paid this year? After that scandal with the Ministry of Magic over the summer, I imagine that your family was hit rather hard, wasn't it?" Draco said. He was fed up with the Weasel and some of the…incidents that the Weasel had concocted over the past few months of school to humiliate Draco. Uncharacteristically, Draco had thought better of reacting to them, but now he was starting to get a little pissed off with the Weasel's snide remarks. The Weasel looked pissed.

"Big words from a kid whose father is in Azkaban for being a Death Eater and arranging the attack on the Ministry last June," the Weasel shot back. Draco shrugged.

"It could be worse. I could have to wake up and look at your charming _visage_ in the mirror every morning. Or, rather, wake up and not have the chance to look at my charming _visage_ in the mirror every morning. Your family probably can't afford a mirror, now, can it?"

Draco could see he was getting to the Weasel. He had already turned a rather interesting shade of red. His companions were of no help, just cheering Ron on, encouraging him to come up with better insults.

"At least I don't have to sink so low as to buy myself fan letters to boost my ego!"

"Is that the best you can come up with, Weasel? You're losing the touch you never had. Oh, and if it matters so much to you, I didn't buy them. I hardly need to, with half the population at the school throwing itself at my feet, what on earth are a few fan letters to me? I'm sorry if they make you realize how inferior you are, but I really can't help it. Some people have it, _others_ don't. I guess we know which side you and your friends are on."

Ron growled, but Seamus intervened before it got ugly.

"Yeah, right, Draco. So you got a couple of crummy letters. I bet Harry's got loads more than you will ever have, right Harry?"

Harry, who had been trying to avoid being caught in this entire argument, looked up from his book, feigning inattention.

"Pardon?" Harry asked, hoping for a miracle.

"How many fan letters have _you_ got?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah, show that brat Malfoy that he can't even come close to comparing with you!" Ron added. There were various murmurs of ascent from the group of Gryffindorks.

"Um…" Harry said. "I…I don't know…"

"Come on, Harry! Tell us!" Dean demanded. Harry winced.

"I, uh, haven't actually…"

"Speak up, Harry. We can't hear you!"

"Yeah, speak up, Potter. We'd all love to know how many fan letters you get per day," Draco said, inwardly wincing at the cruel sound in his voice. "You must have your own post office to deal with all the letters," he continued. He just couldn't seem to stop the words from coming out.

"Um…I haven't really…gotten…any…"

"What about all those letters from people after they read your article last year?" Ron demanded.

"They weren't really fan letters, just people saying they believe me…" Harry said quietly. Draco couldn't fight the smirk that wound up on his face, although he felt none of it.

"Well, isn't that just peachy," Draco said. He laughed. "Let me know the next time you want your Gryffindork pride smashed, Weasel. I'll be happy to oblige. Imagine that," he finished as he walked back to his seat, "the _eeeeevil_ Slytherin more popular than the Boy-Who-Lived. Priceless." With another cold laugh, he took his seat next to Goyle. Ron looked about ready to explode. Draco heard familiar footsteps in the hall, and, unable to resist the perfect set-up, Draco sealed Weasel's fate by whistling a single line of a song loud enough for only the Weasel to hear, and not the quickly approaching Snape. " 'Cause Weasley is our king."

No one could stop Ron as he launched himself at Draco, screaming, "LAY OFF THAT BLOODY SONG ALREADY!" The Weasel had Draco against the table, choking the life out of him as Snape walked in.

"MISTER WEASLEY! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" Snape said very loudly. Ron didn't even hear him. Snape muttered a spell that pulled the Weasel off of Draco. Draco, looking rather blue from lack of oxygen, put a hand to his throat, already feeling the bruises forming. He hadn't expected the Weasel to react quite that violently or quickly, and he didn't like that he had underestimated him. Snape was chewing out the Weasel loudly, telling him to get his behind up to Dumbledore straight away. He summoned a note out of mid air, gave it to the Weasel, and sent him straight away to Dumbledore's office. Draco hid a very small smile as Snape turned to him.

"Mr. Crabbe, please see Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing. I think he needs to have his neck looked at."

Crabbe nodded dumbly, helped Malfoy up, and took him up to the hospital wing. When they were out of earshot, Crabbe grinned.

"That was good, Boss. Snape'll try and get him expelled now. It was rich."

Draco just grinned, a little half-heartedly. Harry had looked rather upset when he left, and now he half regretted his rash actions. He hadn't originally meant it to go that far. He sighed. Unfortunately, it had, and there was no way to take it back now. They got to the hospital, but Madame Pomfrey was busy tending to some kid who had fancied himself as the new George Weasely and had turned his head into a purple balloon with a miscast spell, so they were forced to wait for a while. When Madame Pomfrey had finally returned his head to its proper dimensions, although the kid's skin and hair were still rather purple, she ushered Draco into a room and did a quick look at his injury.

"Well, that's going to be one nasty set of bruises, but I think you'll be alright Mr. Malfoy." Her tone clearly stated that she thought he deserved it. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to go work some more with young Mr. Manchester ((A/N: can you tell I'm out of names yet?))." She left without waiting for a reply. Draco shrugged and went back out to head back to class. Goyle stood the moment he entered the waiting room and inquired about the state of his neck.

"Oh, she said it looks bad and I might have some problems eating and talking for a few days," Draco said, making his voice raspy. He knew it was a cheap trick, but he was going to milk this sucker for all it was worth. Plus, it really did hurt to talk. The Weasel knew what to go for when strangling someone. Crabbe looked sympathetic and patted Draco's arm.

"Don't you worry about talking none, then. I can tell Pansy and Greg what happened, and we can tell your other teachers not to ask you too many questions today."

Draco hid another grin. It really was nice to have goons as bodyguards. Vince and Greg were great: stupid but loyal, just the way Draco liked his minions. The bell rang as Draco and Crabbe walked down the hall, so they changed directions slightly and headed for the DADA room, knowing that Goyle would bring their things with them. As Crabbe headed for the front of the room to tell Professor Lupin (back once again ((you don't think I'd leave him out of this, do you?))) about Draco's condition, Draco headed for a seat to one side of the room. Lupin looked back at Draco quickly as Crabbe spoke, nodded, and came over. Draco looked up at him as he approached.

"I understand you had a run-in with Mr. Weasley," Lupin said, also making it sound as if it were COMPLETELY Draco's fault – which it wasn't (only about 60% of it was Draco's fault; the rest fell completely on Weasel). "I do hope you feel better soon, Mr. Malfoy." Again, his tone clearly stated otherwise, but Draco nodded humbly and the werewolf moved to the front of the class as the other students started filing in. Sure enough, Goyle and Pansy had Draco and Crabbe's books and things and almost immediately demanded details of what happened. Crabbe took over telling what Draco had said to him; embellishing only slightly how much pain Draco was expected to be in. The other two looked very sympathetic as they took seats around him, Pansy in front of him, Goyle to her left, and Crabbe to Draco's left.

"Sorry I couldn't get him offa ya," Goyle said. Draco shook his head, trying to tell him that it was alright. Crabbe interpreted,

"It wasn't yer fault, he says. No one expected Weasley to do anything like that."

Draco nodded at Crabbe's relatively correct interpretation. About then, Blaise walked in, and sat down on Draco's right. He looked over at Draco, gasped when he saw the already-developing bruises, and quickly demanded an explanation.

"The Weasley brat tried to kill Draco before Potions today," Pansy said. "He had him by the neck. Madame Pomfrey said that they are in a dangerous place! Any longer, and Weasley _would_ have killed Draco!"

Blaise looked astonished, and asked,

"Is this true Draco?"

Draco nodded.

"Why can't he talk?"

"Madame Pomfrey said that it will probably be painful to talk and eat for a few days," Crabbe said. 

"Oh! Poor Draco! I wish I had been there! I know just the curse for that prick!"

"Snape sent him immediately up to Dumbledore's. I think he's going to try and finally get him expelled," Pansy said scandalously.

"I hope so! He could have killed poor Draco!"

"Hey, where were you, by the way, Blaise?" Goyle asked.

"I overslept. I doubt that my absence was noted though," Blaise said, "if that really happened. And if it was, I could just say I met you in the hall and wanted to go to Madame Pomfrey with you!"

Draco nodded again. He looked as if he was about to pantomime more, but the bell rang, and Lupin called the class to order.

Lunch that day was rather amusing for Draco. It really did hurt like hell to swallow, and he could only eat a little, and every time he tried, and wound up wincing, someone would notice and tell him to be better to himself, wounded as he was. It went so far that one or two of the third years ran down to the kitchens to grab a big bowl of warm soup for Draco so that he wouldn't have to try and chew. The soup did help soothe his abused throat a little, but even it hurt a good deal, so he didn't eat more than a few bites. Through the rest of the day, the tails of what had happened to Draco Malfoy in Potions grew longer and longer. Draco almost burst out laughing when one of the Hufflepuff first years stopped him in the halls and asked why he wasn't at St Mungo's, since apparently he was scheduled to have a massive surgery to replace severely damaged parts of his larynx and esophagus. A group of Slytherin students were awed that he could stand, since he was in so much pain, and a little Ravenclaw 7th year with short-cropped brown hair suggested that he go see Madame Pomfrey for sedatives to help him sleep with the pain tonight. All in all, it was quite entertaining, or it would have been if it hadn't hurt so much, and as a bonus, he hadn't seen the Weasel the entire rest of the day! After dinner that night – of which he had been the center of attention, with people offering to help him do anything from chew his food to get Madame Pomfrey to give him an IV so that he wouldn't starve to death while he was recovering – Draco retreated to an empty classroom to escape the people. It was quite nice having a concerned crowd following him, but he needed quiet time too. As he sat in the classroom, doing nothing but thinking about the day, he heard someone come in. He was hidden in the back corner, and so quite invisible unless he was being looked for, giving him a chance to see whom it was. It was (of course) none other than the mighty Harry Potter. Potter walked in, completely oblivious to the presence of Draco, and flopped into a chair near the middle of the room. He leaned his head back over the edge of the chair, and sighed. He kept his eyes closed as he massaged his face, giving Draco ample time to wonder what to do. Suddenly, Harry opened his eyes and looked right at Draco. Harry started, jumping out of his chair.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Draco gave him a look. 

"Knitting a sweater, what are you doing?" Draco asked, then he stopped, looking surprised. He hadn't meant his voice to come out croaky and sore, but it had. He really _couldn't_ talk! Harry sighed.

"You don't have to pull that crap with me Malfoy. I know it's an act."

"It is not!" Draco said, his voice sounding wretched. He winced as the volume he had used had hurt his throat even more. "I really do sound like this. You can blame your Weasel friend for that." Just talking hurt something awful, so he decided to shut up and see what Harry would say.

"You provoked him," Harry pointed out, "But yes, he did overreact. I…I apologize for his actions."

Draco gave Harry a look that clearly read, 'Don't shit me, Potter. Stop playing the martyr.' Harry shook his head.

"I really do mean it. He shouldn't have done that and I feel I should have stopped him."

"Why the hell do you care?" Draco asked.

"I don't like seeing people get hurt, even if they did ask for it on bended knee."

"Poetic."

Harry shrugged.

"I just wish you would stop teasing him."

"You make him sound like the victim here."

"You certainly haven't tried being nice to him!"

"I never once laid a finger on him. I never even cursed him unless he attacked first!"

"But you don't have to tease him all the time!"

"Why? He's never done anything nice to me, and if you remember, he started it! He's always the one starting crap."

"Why don't you try ending it with him! Why don't you try not to say anything sometime? We don't HAVE to be enemies, you know!"

"Don't we? You certainly didn't seem to think so six years ago! That's enough of this. My throat hurts, and I am not going to take any more of this shit from you."

Draco stood up and left. Harry tried to say something to him, but the door closed on his words. Halfway back to the Slytherin Common Room, Draco stopped. ~Did I just have a conversation with Harry Potter and not hex him once?!~ Draco wondered to himself. ~I must be going insane. If he realizes that, I might be doomed…he might realize that I like him! That might just kill me! Oh dear Merlin…~

Great, well, that's chapter one. What did you think? Weird enough for you? Oh! I am in serious need of more fan letters to Draco. If you wanna see your work published up here, be my guest and send me a fan letter to Draco, or Harry, Tom, Voldie, Greg, Vince, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Fang, whomever, right NOW! My email is vividian13@yahoo.com! Go! Send! Win!

~Vividian

PS: R&R NOW! You get candy and chocolate and things like that if you do!


	2. Ch2 In Which Draco Asks a Question

Day 2

The next day, Draco woke up and went through his usual routine: he dragged himself out of bed, took a long shower, got dressed, woke Crabbe and Goyle, and went to breakfast. He had almost completely forgotten about yesterday's incident until the entire school quieted when he walked into the Great Hall. 

~Sheesh, are the rumors that bad?~ he asked himself as he sat down at breakfast. Across from him, Pansy gasped. Draco gave her a questioning look.

"You look HORRIBLE!" she said loudly, pulling a small mirror out of her purse. Draco took it and looked at his reflection. He dropped the mirror as he caught sight of his neck. The skin was eight shades of purple almost three quarters of the way around; with several spots so dark they were almost black. His bloody school shirt did little to mask the horrid colors as his towel had when he was fixing his hair earlier that morning.

"Jumping jigging jellyfish," he croaked out, so quiet that he could barely hear himself. His throat hurt twice as bad this morning as it had the day before.

~Damn, but I bruise easily! I hate that! I look HORRID! I should just go back to bed and not let anyone see me until it has healed,~ Draco thought to himself. ~Or wear my scarf all day long, but that could get hot.~

Draco picked the mirror back up and began examining his throat. He barely noticed the predictable late entrance of Harry, and the shocked look he gave Draco when he spotted the bruises. When Crabbe and Goyle joined Draco and Pansy at the Slytherin table, they were almost as shocked to see the colors of Draco's neck.

"That looks like it hurts," Crabbe said.

"A lot," Goyle added. Draco nodded and handed Pansy back her mirror.

"Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey again, Draco," Pansy said as she took her mirror. Draco shook his head.

"What good will she do?" he asked quietly. Pansy gasped again.

"You sound worse than yesterday! What if he did irreparable damage? That would be horrid! Oh dear!" 

Draco sighed and began picking at the food that had appeared on the table. Shortly, the owl post arrived again. This time, seven owls landed in front of him, offering legs to have notes removed from. Draco untied them all and read one of them silently, sighed, then handed it to Pansy.

"'Drakkie-Poo-Poo,'" Pansy began. "Cute. Can I call you that?"

Draco gave her a death glare.

          "Fine, spoilsport, 'Drakkie-Poo-Poo, I heard about your horrible run in with that evil Ron Weasley yesterday, and I wanted to say I hope you feel better! You cannot possibly ever get permanently hurt! I would be so devastated! I would cry for days, then miss classes, flunk out of school, go have to see a psychiatrist for the rest of my life, and eventually die a horrible death! I love you so much, it would be the only solution for such a horrible series of events. If you need help raising money for an operation of any kind, we members of you fan club would donate money! We adore you Draco, but me most of all! Sincerely, Fiona O'Brian, Fan Club founding member.' Draco, that is RICH!" 

Draco sighed, opened another letter and read it. Then did the same for all the rest of the letters in the pile. They were all rather similar, hoping he would get better soon, saying that they absolutely adored him, and either wanted his children or wanted to marry him. It was rather sickening. He sighed and stuffed them all into his book bag.

"Are they all like that, Boss?" Goyle asked. Draco nodded, then put his hand to his throat. That hurt too! Everything hurt with this damned injury. Goyle sensed something was wrong. "Should I go get Madame Pomfrey, Boss?" he asked. Draco started to shake his head, but Pansy interrupted.

"Of course you should! What if he's hemorrhaging? He could be dying with that amount of bruising and no one would know until he was dead! Go get her, hurry!"

Goyle jumped up from his seat and literally ran over to the staff table where Madame Pomfrey was eating breakfast. He spoke quickly to her, and she sighed before dragging herself to her feet and following him over to the Slytherin table.

"Mr. Goyle, I told him that he would have rather extensive bruises for sev…er..al… days…" When she caught sight of the bruises around Draco's neck, her entire demeanor changed. "Oh dear!" she exclaimed. "Those are much worse than I had anticipated. Up to the hospital wing, immediately!" she commanded. Crabbe and Goyle dragged Draco to his feet, and helped him to the hospital wing. Draco just sighed.

~This is just plain stupid. You can't die from bruising. Bloody overreacting,~ he thought. ~It was funny earlier, but now it's just pathetic.~ 

Madame Pomfrey poked, prodded, inspected, made notes, and asked Draco questions until he was about ready to kill someone. She asked him for the hundredth time to describe the symptoms, the pain, and everything else she could think of. Draco had answered her the first time, barely able to get that much of a response out, and then just kept giving her the Malfoy Glare™ whenever she asked again. Finally, she bustled off to check some of her reference books. He sat there for quite a while before she returned, telling him that his injuries were not life threatening, but he would need plenty of rest to not wind up with serious consequences. Draco sighed as she went through the list of what to and not to do as he was recovering, and when she finally dismissed him, he thankfully left rather quickly. 

He had already missed his first class – Divination – and were halfway through his second of the day – History of Magic – which he had no desire to walk into late, so he went back to his common room to sit for a while before Care of Magical Creatures, which he had even less of a desire to attend; he didn't feel like sitting around all day, though, so when the time arrived, he went to the class. 

When he got to Care of Magical Creatures, Draco stood at the back of the group as Hagrid introduced the newest breed of dangerous animals they were going to be studying. Today it seemed to be a most charming critter: Cavernauls. Cavernauls were small balls of fluff that resembled rabbits with very large pointed teeth. Apparently, if you managed to make friends with one – meaning you managed to keep it from eating any part of you in a fifteen-minute period – it would grant you the answer to any question you asked. Draco looked overjoyed as Hagrid handed him a rather large white Cavernaul. With a sigh, Draco put the thing on the ground and sat down next to it. The thing immediately began looking for something on which it could chew. Deciding to try and prevent another trip to Madame Pomfrey's today, Draco offered it some grass, which it quickly ate up, then began nuzzling his hand for more. He found more grass, and as he was feeding it, looked around at the other students. He was apparently having much more luck than the rest of them. Goyle's Cavernaul – an ugly gray thing – was chewing on his ear, Blaise's had been eating large chunks off of his pants, one of the Gryffindor's was chasing her around the field, and the mudblood's was eyeing her book bag with a hungry gleam to it's blue eyes. Only Har-POTTER's was behaving as well as Draco's.

~Well isn't that just so Potter. Can't let anyone else be good at something. Always has to be him.~ Draco sighed and fed more grass and a few thistles to his Cavernaul. It took to the thistles most greedily, so Draco picked it up and went off in search of more. He set it down in a big patch of them and began feeding it again. Then, for a lack of anything better to do, he began talking to it.

"I doubt you can understand me," he told it in a raspy voice, "but my name's Draco. I don't know your name. I don't know that you have one, actually. So, since I don't know if you have a name, I think I'll call you Angie, short for Angelina, of course. Angelina was my grandma's name. Grandma Angie was my mother's mother. She was one of the few people who I really thought liked me as a little kid. She spoiled me rotten, but she liked me. I was really sad when she died. More so than I was when any of my Malfoy grandparents died. They hated me. Only saw me as an heir to their name. Pompous asses. I doubt you care, though, so I'll spare you and talk of something else. Do you have many friends as a Cavernaul? I doubt. It doesn't seem that many critters would like rather carnivorous bunnies. I like you, but I am known for having weird tastes. That's why I don't have many friends either. I don't think anyone should be without friends, but I suppose everyone has to have someone to hate, and that just usually winds up being us, eh Angie? Maybe Hagrid would let me keep you. I rather like you. You're nice and quite and I bet you'd eat anything I wouldn't at dinner." 

He sighed as his throat began killing him. He was so sick of not talking that he had tried as hard as he could to keep talking, if only to get it out of his system. Alas, his voice would have no more of it. Since he could no longer talk to it, he kept feeding Angie instead. Angie seemed to care less if he was talking to it or not, as long as he kept feeding it. Just as Draco was about to try and start talking with it again, it stopped eating and looked up at him.

"You have made me happy. I am now your friend," it said in a strange voice. Draco's eyes almost fell out of his head. "You may ask me any question you want and I will answer it. You are only permitted to ask one question, however, so be warned."

Draco looked at it for a minute.

"Um…to tell the truth I really didn't listen that well to Hagrid when he was talking to us. So, I have no idea what I want to ask."

"I will wait for five minutes."

Draco quickly racked his brain, trying to find a question to ask. Several rather obvious questions flitted through his head: was Voldemort going to beat Harry in the end? Was he subscribing to the right side? Was his father going to die in Azkaban and finally leave him alone? Was he ever going to get up the balls to ask the man of his dreams out? Did Harry like him as much as he liked Harry? Finally he settled on a rather vague one, but one that had been nagging at the back of his head since he had decided that Death Eater-ism was not for him.

"Hey, Angie," he said. The Cavernaul looked up at him. "Is there a happy ending for me? I mean, I'm halfway between being killed by the Light Side because I might wind up a Death Eater, and being killed by the Dark Side because I will probably wind up a spy for the Light Side. Do I get a happy ending or does it all go to hell for me?"

The Cavernaul looked like it was almost smiling, in a very strange rabbit-y way. "There is a happy ending," it said. "I will not reveal all, for you did not ask for all, but you do have a happy ending after all of this is over, with a kind man who was practically made for you."

"I don't suppose you could tell me who he is," Draco said wincing as his throat began to hurt a great deal.

The Cavernaul really did smile this time.

"I break the rules by telling you this, but I like you a good deal. The man you wind up with is none other than…"

((A/N: Aw, I really aint THAT mean. None of you have read Juliet and Romeo have you?))

"…than Harry Potter."

"WHAT!?" Draco yelled, his voice breaking under the strain put on his damaged vocal chords. The entire class immediately looked over at him, worried, although only half of them were worried for Draco's health. Draco looked as if he had been hit with a 2x4. "Are you serious?" he croaked as Pansy, Goyle and Crabbe ran over. The Cavernaul nodded. Draco looked as if he was about to die, fall over, or sing to the sky in pure joy. He quickly concealed this as his three friends made their way over to him.

"Draco! Are you alright?" Pansy asked. "Did the evil Cavernaul tell you something horrible? Why were you talking to it? Don't you know you're sick?! You should be resting! Oh Draco, do try an be nice to yourself occasionally!"

Draco waved and shut Pansy up.

"It's nothing. I just…found out something strange," he croaked again, sending Pansy into a tizzy.

"Draco! You are going to kill yourself. You should know better than talking and then screaming! Of all the things to do!"

Draco sighed and turned back to the Cavernaul.

"Thanks for the info I guess. You're always welcome to come find me if you want free eats. Maybe Hagrid will let me adopt you after the classes are done with you guys."

The Cavernaul nodded, then Draco picked it up and started walking it over to Hagrid. Crabbe and Goyle were immediately protesting, saying that he shouldn't be doing anything strenuous with his injury and all. As Crabbe tried to take Angie away and Goyle insisted that Draco go right back to the Slytherin dorms and back to bed, something inside of Draco snapped.

"Merlin! Shut up already!" He croaked out again. His voice felt tight and painful, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to speak for a while after this. "I can handle myself! I don't need you two as babysitters! I know that I'm bloody hurt, but I'm not bloody dying! I'll fucking live! Give me a break and save your pity and worry for someone who needs it, you bloody p-" his voice finally gave out under the constant stress and disappeared entirely as he was finishing his rant. He tried to say something else, but no words would come. With one last famous Malfoy Glare™ aimed at his two cronies, he handed his Cavernaul back to Hagrid and took off for the castle without a backward glance.

Well, that's chapter 2! How'd you like it? Can you tell there's really no plot? ^_^ Well, there isn't. I hope to have the next one out soon. Please R&R! I'll write faster if you do. I'm in college now so I have lots of time. Ok, thank yous to the following people, who also get chocolate chip cookies with scenes from JxR (the naughty ones) on them! Yay to them!

**Offchops**: Thanks! I hope it doesn't wind up with lots of plot holes. I don't really know what I'm doing. But here's to hoping it winds up interesting, if nothing else!

**Jaina2**: Thanks! Here's your more! I hope you enjoy!

Well, that's everyone, sadly enough. Super Kudos to these two people for reviewing! I love you! ^_^ See yall next chapter! PLEASE R&R! I WILL GIVE MORE DESSERTS NEXT TIME!

Ciao!

~Vividian


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